


One and only

by wordswehavesaid



Series: Tumblr prompts [21]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: First Time, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mention of past relationships, Sexual Content, possessive oliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:03:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6741646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswehavesaid/pseuds/wordswehavesaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry reveals something about himself to his partner as he and Oliver prepare to get intimate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: *blushes* I love the idea of Barry losing his virginity to Oliver
> 
> *I should note that this was requested and originally written before the s2 episode showing Barry and Patty sharing a bed, plus the deleted scene from episode 2.09. Either way, this is basically in a semi-alternate universe anyway, so enjoy!

Barry wouldn't call it a sore point. Not even an issue, really, just a fact. And the fact is that he's not exactly...experienced the way most people his age are in relationships.

It's only a year after Iris starts dating that Barry does as well. But Becky Cooper is a high school girlfriend, and a brief one at that. Soon the “nightmare”, as Iris puts it, is over. In college, he goes on the odd date or two, but by that point he knows he's pretty firmly in love with Iris beyond just a childhood crush. He never quite works up the nerve to get that intimate with another person in their time apart. And in the time Iris spends apart from him the nine months following the particle accelerator explosion, she works up the nerve. Which is something that takes time to get over.

Barry doesn’t even kiss his accidental double-date Felicity until after they’ve pretty much decided it’s not going anywhere. Even when he’s truly resolved to get over Iris he’s taken aback by Linda’s forwardness and very much lets her lead. Not that that really went much of anywhere, either. _None_ of his relationships have really gone anywhere, which he's really hoping is a pattern he can break because his current relationship...he can't imagine losing that. But the longer this one lasts the more likely it is that, well, he'll have to tell his partner the facts.

He's a little embarrassed about it, in all honesty, because come on he’s with _Oliver Queen_ , legendary playboy. Oliver’s probably had a hundred better lays than some awkward fumbling virgin _dork_. He’d probably think Barry’s weird and pathetic for still being a virgin, like nobody must have wanted him - and they didn’t, but really that’s just sad that Oliver would be right.

So he doesn’t say anything. Not when they start dating, because that would just be a totally inappropriate thing to blurt, and not when things start getting a little more heated. He’ll just fake it, let Oliver call the shots like usual and get it over with, lie back and think of England, hope that the first time is gentle without him asking for it, and pray that Oliver thinks it’s good enough to stay with him after, to keep trying until Barry gets the hang of it. That’s basically what sex is, right?

Of course, determined as he is mentally, physically he can’t seem to help reacting in a way that suggests he’s not quite as experienced as he’d like Oliver to think. Little hitches in his breath whenever the man starts kissing a path down his neck and chest or brushing fingers just above his waistband, yelping with surprise the first time Oliver gropes his ass, and practically shoving himself back against the couch cushions with a gasp that first time his partner tries to grind his erection - an erection, _holy shit_ , how did he even get that to happen? what’s he supposed to _do_ with it? he’s too freaked out right now to even remember the bare bones basics of _heterosexual_ intercourse they’d gone over in sex ed - down onto Barry’s. He’s shocked and horny and confused all at once and oh God he’s fucked up, hasn’t he?

Oliver stops and pulls back, that concerned frown Barry both loves and hates on his face. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no. I just- you just, um, surprised me. But I’m good, we can keep going.” He tries to scoot back over and reaches to take Oliver’s face in his hands but the man gently encircles his wrists, stopping him.

“No, Barry we need to talk about this. Are things moving too fast - don’t laugh,” he cautions before Barry could even start to if he wanted. But he doesn’t want to. He’s tense and trying really hard to resist the urge to draw his knees up to his chest in embarrassment because this isn’t how it was supposed to go at all.

“Things are fine. I’m- I’m ok with anything you want to do.”

“But what do _you_ want? I’m serious, Barry, you need to talk to me. If I’m doing something that’s making you uncomfortable I need to know. I don’t want to hurt you or ruin things between us.”

And Oliver just looks so worried, even scared, that Barry can’t take it.

He looks down, takes one of the throw pillows from the couch and hugs it to himself, partly to hide the wilting tent in his pants, and partly just to distract himself playing with a loose thread. “I’m ok, really. This is just new for me, what we’re doing.”

“With another man?” Oliver guesses, and God that would be the easy-out wouldn’t it? But he knows now, he needs to be honest.

“With anyone,” he mutters, eyes squeezed shut to avoid even catching a glimpse of the shock or incredulity that’s bound to be on the older man’s face. “I know, I know that’s so pathetic. I mean I’m twenty-six for crying out loud and I’ve never actually had sex.” Barry laughs at himself because at this point, that’s the best reaction he can hope for from his partner. “I’m- I’m sorry, Oliver, I totally get it if you think that’s weird or you don’t want to–”

The pillow’s plucked from his lap and then strong arms are pulling him into a broad chest and wrapping securely around him. Oliver doesn’t say anything for a couple minutes, just rubs his back comfortingly, and Barry knows that means he’s thinking long and deep about this.

“Thanks for telling me,” the older man says at last, though he sounds a little stern as he adds, “Sex - the right kind of sex - is all about communication. I really could’ve hurt you if I hadn’t known.”

“I didn’t want you to know,” He admits in a small voice. “I just wanted to be able to make you happy. And I figured, you know, I heal fast.” 

He feels those arms tighten around him for a moment and there’s something of a growl in his partner’s voice when he says, “Nobody should _ever_ hurt you like that, Barry, and I’m certainly not going to. That would not make me happy. At all. Are we clear?”

“Mm-hm,” he has to agree with his lips pressed together because, damnit, he can feel the lump that’s rising in his throat and the tears that are pricking at his eyes. This is the complete opposite of how he wanted things to go tonight. “I’m sorry, Oliver,” he chokes out again.

“Hey, hey Barry look at me. Please,” the other man coaxes gently. He has to lift his head back up to do so and Oliver removes an arm from around him to start wiping at the wet trails forming on his cheeks. “ _I’m_ sorry. You felt like you had to do this for a reason. I can see how my past might…make it seem like I have expectations. But don’t ever feel like you have to pretend to be something you’re not to make me happy, ok?”

“Ok,” he’s able to agree, starting to calm. “I- I really do want, I mean, I’ve liked what we’ve been doing. It’s not like I’m this person who wants to wait for marriage or something - not that I’m thinking about marriage, either,” he hastens to add, because that’s the last thing he needs Oliver to start thinking about him. This is the man who went on what turned into a five-year boat trip to avoid commitment, after all. 

Even if he’s changed, which he clearly has if he’s willing to put up with Barry of all people. “So just, don’t feel like you have to, I don’t know, take sex off the table or, um–” He makes the mistake glancing at the coffee table to his left as he says it and promptly blushes bright red. “Not like that, I mean, not _there_ just–”

Oliver laughs, but leans forward to press a kiss to one of Barry’s flushed cheeks before he can grow too humiliated. “So, sex on a table. I think I can fulfill that fantasy at some point.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively to boot, which finally eases the last of the tension inside Barry and he’s able to laugh as well. 

He laughs until he’s sagging gratefully back into his partner’s embrace, just so happy and relieved that Oliver’s even willing to still hold him after all of this. “You’re sure you’re not secretly turned off by how pathetic this is?” He has to check.

“Barry, the only thing I find pathetic about any of this is that no one has tried to get you in their bed before now,” the older man remarks, and he looks up again in shock at that. Oliver’s grinning at him, and though his look stays warm it sobers as he continues, “If you weren’t ready to have that level of intimacy with the people you were seeing in the past, then you just weren’t. That’s ok. And I can safely say that sleeping around is not always all it’s cracked up to be. Trust me, you were smart.”

“I don’t want to be smart, I just want to be sexy,” he mutters into the man’s chest.

“And when did I say you’re not?”

Barry nearly rolls his eyes. Oliver’s being totally sweet and understanding, which he should have expected, but, “Seriously? I’m a virgin. I’ve never even touched somebody else below the waist before this.”

“Exactly. And nobody else has ever touched you.” His partner’s voice has taken on a gravelly tone, soft and low, and somehow just that makes Barry’s heart skip a beat. “I’m the first person - the _only_ person - who’s ever going to know you like that. The only one who’s going to touch you in the most intimate places and give you that kind of pleasure. The only person who’s ever going to have you, and make you mine.”

As he’s been talking, his partner’s hands have slid lower and lower down his back until they reach the curve of his ass and squeeze. Barry can’t stop a moan, at this or the words or both he’s unsure, only that he can’t think past the dizzying _want_ those words have reawakened in him. It feels good, and it’s practically a thrill in of itself to discover that he likes it when Oliver touches him there, now that the pressure of pretending is gone. He wants the other man to touch him _everywhere_.

Oliver takes one hand away to instead tip Barry’s chin back and meet his eyes. He thinks he forgets how to breathe when he sees his face. Slightly reddened cheeks, tongue poking out to lick at his lips, pupils dilated. Classic signs of sexual arousal.

“What about that isn’t sexy?” Oliver asks and thank God it’s rhetorical because then he tilts forward and seals his lips over Barry’s. Another moan slips out of him when the other’s tongue enters his mouth, which is admittedly silly. He’s made out, with Oliver and others in the past, plenty before. But there’s just something electrifying about it this time, the promise of _more_ and the way Oliver pulls him fully into his lap while still kneading his ass.

They both groan at the drag of Barry’s cloth-covered erection - rapidly returning despite his previous assumption it had died forever - over Oliver’s own and he shudders with a gasp before repeating the motion. He can’t believe how good it feels.

“Oliver - _mm_ \- oh- oh my God, please!” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, just more of it.

The older man only lets him grind on him for another minute, however, before moving his hands to Barry’s hips, stopping his movement. When Barry whines, he soothes it with a kiss. Then Oliver’s shifting his grip back to Barry’s ass - a personal favorite, he’s starting to suspect - and standing up so that it’s all he can do to wrap his legs around the other’s waist. “I think I can manage better than the couch for your first time,” he explains, already walking them towards his bedroom.

It pulls a whimper from Barry, and seriously he didn’t even know he could _make_ half these sounds. But his first time. His first time ever, is actually about to happen. With Oliver. “Be gentle with me?” He jokes weakly, even if under the near-thrum of excitement and anticipation some of his nerves have returned.

He has to swallow hard at the tender look Oliver’s giving him. His partner leans in and places a chaste kiss on his lips, then pulls back with a smile. “All I want tonight is to make this special for you. Whatever you want. This is about you feeling good, Barry.”

They’ve reached the bed, and Oliver slowly lowers him onto it before climbing on top, which Barry’s glad for because it makes it a lot of easier for him to take the man’s face in his hands and kiss him soundly. “I want us _both_ to feel good,” he tells the older man, stroking his thumbs lightly over his cheeks.

“I think we can make that happen,” Oliver agrees softly before leaning back down to reclaim his lips.

Yeah. He thinks they can.


	2. Chapter 2

Oliver's breath is coming in pants, the blood's pounding in his ears - though the majority of it has rushed south - just imagining being all of Barry’s firsts. Guiding him through it slowly, lightly trailing his hands over every inch of exposed flesh as he removes each piece of clothing. He leaves Barry’s boxers on at first, and promptly strips himself down to that as well, just to try and alleviate any awkward or shy feelings. There’s a lot of reassuring on his part, telling Barry how good he looks, how much Oliver wants him, how unbelievably sexy this all is. Urging Barry to tell him when something feels good so they can find out what he likes.

Of course, the first time he asks it he’s mouthing at Barry’s neck while thumbing at a hardened nipple and trailing fingers lightly over the bulge in the younger man’s boxers. It’s all Barry can do not to cry out as he arches his neck back and his body up unthinking, only seeking more of this overwhelming pleasure. “A-all of it!”

Oliver pauses, chuckles at himself. “Sorry, Barry. Guess I got carried away. I just want to touch you so badly.” He tries to make an effort to slow again, starting to lift his hands away, but Barry grabs at his wrist.

“Please don’t stop! Oliver, Oliver please, I- I need–”

“Need what, Barry?” He prompts when it looks like the other man can’t find the words. His partner’s pressing his lips together, eyes clenched shut, as he guides Oliver’s hand back down to close over that bulge. He gives an experimental squeeze and Barry moans loud and full, bucking up into it. “God, Barry, you’re so good at this. You don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”

“Please,” the man underneath him whimpers again, looking about ready to start rocking against Oliver’s hand in desperation. He doesn’t intend for that to be necessary, however.

Oliver hooks the fingers of his free hand in the waistband of Barry’s boxers. “Can I?” Though the younger man blushes bright red, he meets his eyes and nods once, raising his hips again to allow Oliver to tug the last remaining garment off of him, tossing it to the floor. Barry’s not going to be needing it for awhile.

“Gorgeous,” he breathes almost instantly, drinking in the sight of Barry completely naked and spread out on his bed. He’s still flushed, but there’s a hint of a pleased smile playing at the corners of his lips at the praise and his legs only twitch a couple inches closed in some lingering self-consciousness.

But he smooths his hands up the man’s inner thighs, gently easing his legs back apart, leaving him totally exposed to his gaze. “Let me look at you, Barry. There’s nothing quite like this first time I’ll ever see you so…open, so ready for me.” He can’t help licking his lips as he reaches out, swiping his thumb over the head of Barry’s fully erect cock and smearing the bead of precum that’s collected at the tip.

Barry shudders, though he sounds a little nervous as gasps, “Oliver, I feel so _good_ , but I- I don’t think I’m going to last long.”

“Hey, don’t worry about that. That’s not important to me,” he soothes, running a hand through the other’s hair before dropping a kiss to his temple. “You just focus on feeling good.” Then he goes for the lube he’d stashed in the bedside drawer. He wants this to be as smooth as possible for Barry. His first handjob, and does that just send a whole new wave of _want_ through him.

Oliver’s quick to coat his hand with the liquid, and then finally closes his hand around his partner’s shaft, skin-to-skin. They’re both groaning. Barry is hot and throbbing in his hold, and he thinks he can feel him harden further at just this first touch. His own cock is straining against the confines of his boxers, but he doesn’t want to risk overwhelming Barry again or making him seem obligated to focus on anything other than feeling this first time. This is enough pleasure for him right now.

He starts stroking slowly, remembering Barry’s fears of this all being over too soon and knowing that he’ll need to build up to it. Barry’s hands are already clenched tightly in the sheets as his mouth drops in another of those delicious moans and his legs fall even further open, naturally spreading himself for Oliver. Something he’s had more than a few dreams about and will no doubt continue to with the actual visual now seared into his memory. But for now, he simply reaches down to gently roll and massage Barry’s balls in his other hand.

“Oh- oh God, Oliver! So good, so good - oh please more… _yeahhh_ ,” his partner babbles and then groans in ecstasy as he picks up the pace on his cock, pumping the shaft and thumbing the slit on each upward stroke to louder and louder cries of pleasure.

The blood’s pounding in his ears even as it’s flowing straight down to his cock and he thinks he just might be getting off on how much pure unabashed love and lust and joy is in the other man’s voice and face right now.

“I should’ve figured you’d be a screamer,” he stretches out along the other man’s side to murmur in Barry’s ear while never breaking the rhythm of his hand. “That’s it, you keep telling me how much you like it. This is just the beginning, Barry. There’s so much I still wanna do to you. Just thinking about it, _mm_.” He lets his hips roll into his partner’s side once, just so he can feel how much he wants him, and Barry gasps before suddenly shuddering, _vibrating_ all over.

“Ol-Oliver!”

“That’s it,” he urges again. The younger man’s balls have tightened and started to draw up, so he trails his hand down lower, giving in to just a little temptation, slipping between his partner’s ass cheeks and just barely pressing an experimental finger against his puckered hole. The ring of muscle around the man’s entrance twitches and trembles, and Barry bucks up into his fist with a shout. Oliver pushes himself up just in time to watch Barry’s face as he reaches his orgasm.

It’s absolutely breathtaking. Barry really does scream his name, pupils absolutely blown wide before his eyelids flutter, long lashes fanning out over his flushed cheeks. He spills his load all over Oliver’s hand, twitching and jerking through the aftershocks he continues to stroke Barry through, helping him to ride it out. Barry moans once more, long and low, before dropping back onto the mattress.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” he says, over and over, as Oliver hurriedly wipes his hands off with a few tissues before pulling the younger man into his arms, rubbing his back and pressing kisses to his hair.

“I know, Barry, I know. You were so good,” he praises. Barry whimpers and clings to him, soaking up the words and his comfort. He rolls them so that his back hits the bed and Barry’s lying on top, nuzzling into his chest with soft noises that aren’t quite words. The younger man relaxes, limbs loose and heavy, and he finally seems to come just a little bit down from the high with a blissed out sigh.

“Oliver, that was- I can’t- thank you,” he finally settles on, a little hoarse from everything before.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he’s quick to correct.

“No, but I should, I mean, I can try–″ His hand moves, a little slow and halting, sliding down Oliver’s chest toward his still rock-hard cock. As amazing as that feels, he can see the shyness and uncertainty in the other man’s face, as well as the exhaustion seeping into his limbs.

He catches Barry’s wrist. “I can wait. You really should rest, Barry. There’ll be time for that later.”

His partner’s eyes are shining in gratitude even as he blushes red again. Barry pushes himself up and kisses Oliver slow and deep for a long moment before pulling back. “I love you,” he says simply, a smile on his face that’s gentle and sweet and crinkles at the corner of his eyes.

“I’d hope so,” Oliver can’t help quipping softly, “You’re my lover now.” He reaches a hand up to cup Barry’s face, guiding him back down into another chaste kiss. “And I’m yours. Now sleep.”

Barry somehow looks even happier than before, practically glowing, and he snuggles back down against Oliver, eyes slipping shut. He draws the blankets up over both of them, not intending to sleep. But somehow, whether it’s the warmth or the even rise and fall to the other man’s chest or the breaths washing over his skin, he finds himself drifting off, too.


End file.
